I started out at Schönalp-Hüttli which is located a bit above Unterägeri, a town located a 30 min. drive from where I live. My route took me via In den Gräben to Geissfaren and up to Halsegg and then the rest up to Wildspitz.Gestartet bin ich vom Schönalp-Hüttli, das ein wenig oberhalb von Unterägeri liegt, eine Ortschaft ca. 30 Minuten per Auto von mir zuhause entfernt. Meine Route führte mich via In den Gräben zum Geissfaren und hoch über die Halsegg zum Wildspitz.

Only a few minutes into the hike I started to wonder what all the buzz was about and that’s what presented itself to me:Nur ein paar Minuten nachdem ich gestartet war, wunderte ich mich über das aufgeregte Gesurre und im nächsten Moment stand ich vor diesen Gebilden:

Only a few more steps, you can do it! You can do it! / Nur noch ein paar Schritte, du schaffst das! Du schaffst das!

And when I arrived up top I knew why I’d come in the first place – this breathtaking view was my reward:Und als ich ob auf der Spitze ankam, wusste ich, warum ich eigentlich gekommen war – diese atemberaubende Aussicht war meine Belohnung:

My way back down took me over to the Gnipen which is the spot where in 1806 a massive rockslide broke loose and in its wake devastated four villages and causing a 20m high tsunami in the nearby lake Lauerz. This is the spot where the rock broke:Mein Weg zurück ins Tal führte mich über den Gnipen, wo 1806 der massive Bergsturz von Goldau losgebrochen war und in dessen Folge vier Dörfer zerstört wurden und der eine 20m hohe Flutwelle im nahegelegenen Lauerzersee auslöste. Dies ist die Abbruchstelle:

My mom and aunt established a Sunday morning bicycling routine a long time ago. I have no idea when they started it but I remember that at some point – when I had passed the teenage years and my twenties, the age known for “having to sleep in because I partied too hard on Saturday night” – I was grown up enough to get my chunk out of bed in time to enjoy the early hours of many a peaceful Sunday mornings. And I can tell you: It’s been worth it every single time.

So on today’s Sunday I rose and shone (maybe not so brightly to begin with ;-)) early as we agreed to meet at my – other – aunt’s house to have breakfast. She invited us over and we happily agreed to show up on time at 8:30am. This aunt, Marie, came to visit me in Austin with my mom and her friend in May 2015. Then last year she went through a rough spot and it was our pleasure to accept her invitation, seeing how she was in a much better place by now.

I thoroughly enjoyed today’s ride from Hausen am Albis, my place of residence high over the city of Zug down to the lake, along its shore to Arth and finally all the way around the lake and – yes – back up the hill again. At its altitude of 611 meters (2’005 ft) some might consider it a mountain J (in Switzerland a mountain only starts at the elevation of 1’000 meters = 3’281 ft).

Do you have a year-long routine you don’t quite know/remember how or why it started?

Though I do regret that my mum got a scare, I have to admit that I’m happy the spider found a home in her sleeve instead of mine. I would either have collapsed – screaming – or gotten an adrenalin rush that would have lasted for three days – not the most relaxing thought either.Auch wenn ich bedaure, dass meine Mum einen Schreck kriegte, so bin ich doch froh, hat sich die Spinne in ihrem, anstatt meinem Ärmel gemütlich eingerichtet hat. Ich wäre entweder schreiend zusammengebrochen oder hätte einen Adrenalinschub für drei Tage gekriegt – auch keine sehr entspannende Vorstellung.

And last but not least I realized that Switzerland isn’t that different from Texas: At least some interests are mutual!Und zu guter Letzt kann ich bemerken, dass es in der Schweiz gar nicht so anders ist als in Texas: Gleiche Interessen gibts auf jeden Fall!

Howbeit, I’m expecting it to be rather quiet at the office for a couple of days next weeks as a number of managers will be out for a conference. This is how I picture the office during that time:Wie dem auch sei, ich erwarte, dass es für ein paar Tage so ziemlich ruhig sein wird im Büro nächste Woche, da einige unserer Manager für eine Konferenz ausser Haus sein werden. So stelle ich mir das Büro während dieser Zeit vor:

A desk, a chair, tumbleweed and crickets awaiting me in the office next week.

I’ve been living in the U.S. for a little over 2 years now and it’s been almost a year since my last visit to Switzerland and as swiftly as that have I been Americanized – to my better half’s delight.* (Für Deutsch hier klicken)

When arriving in Zurich the usual first impressions hit me: The toilet flush that swirls the water down the pipe instead of sucking it out; the meticulous cleanliness; the timeliness of public transportation and – public transportation in general!

Swiss vs. Texas tea spoon 🙂

These observations are obvious enough but there’s small things that hit me now such as when I made coffee in the morning and only seemed to find Espresso spoons in my mum’s kitchen drawer. Until she assured me that these are regular coffee spoons. They seem so incredibly tiny.

1st floor, ground floor, upper level??!?

Or yesterday at the train station when a sign announced that the ticket office moved up to the 1st floor… which made me hunt around the ground floor (which of course in the U.S is the 1st floor). I’m confused here people!!

Well, at least there’s a few things that don’t change: Any Swiss bread is still as good as I remember it and thus is bread that deserves the name. It’s not as overly soft as toast. There’s no disturbing holes as they put them in bagels. A crusty-looking crust actually is crusty. And there’s so many variations that your eyes are in danger of going into overload. How wonderful!

Casual cheese selection.

But my real first culinary highlight happened right away during our first breakfast on Saturday: I cut myself a piece of the first cheese available – and I couldn’t believe how creamy and flavorful it was… truly like music on my tongue!! Quite frankly: I think I’m in danger of reversing the impression that one only gains weight when staying in the U.S. 🙂

*The reason my better half is delighted about my confusion is that I finally understand his initial confusion when first arriving in Switzerland almost 10 years ago.

Ever stepped into a dog’s brown pile of muck? Not the nicest of moments. (Für Deutsch hier klicken) Can be quite slippery and even lead – if you’re lucky enough to not plunk unceremoniously on your behind – to vigorous wind-milling of one’s arms and thereby making one look slightly silly. But the worst about it all is the stench. You can try scraping your shoe on the sidewalk to get rid of the sh*t but the stench will follow you around so obtrusively that usually the only solution left is either burning the affected footwear or at least sandblasting and using odor-killing chemicals.

And that’s why here’s a brief paean to a Swiss invention:

U.S. (or Texas) Version of a Robidog.

Lately, on one of my runs I jog past a doggie do box and think: „Oh hey, very Swiss. It’s like a Robidog. Should have shown my mum when she was here, she would have felt home at the drop of a hat.” How come? Well, because Robidog – or generally the dog poop disposal box whose trademark name is used for any kind of dog doo doo box in the German-speaking world just as Hoover is used for vacuum cleaners, Ohropax for ear plugs and Pritt stick for any glue stick – was invented around 1981 by a Swiss named Joseph Rosenast. The original consists of a green box which features a rectangular insertion through which the dog poop filled plastic bags can be disposed of and a slot out of which mistress and master can pluck new odor-proof plastic baggies. A “real” Robidog, though, can be spotted by the stylized Dachshund printed on the front of the box and on the wafer-thin plastic pouches. I have not yet encountered a real Robidog here in the U.S. yet. To my knowledge it was patented only in Switzerland and Europe. Even though North America used to be amongst Robidog’s customers, at least during its early years. Probably up to the point where people here, too, realized how easy it is to – in the truest sense of the word – “master” the malodorous and often slippery civilization problem called dog fouling and started to manufacture dog waste disposal bins themselves. Tidy business.

Friday afternoon at the office: After having fought my hair for a whole week during Sales Conference in Orlando and mostly letting it do its thing this week at the office I decided that it was time for a haircut. And since my hair has entered that somewhat awkward stage in between super-short and short hair I also longed for a little change in color to spice the whole look up a tad. So I booked myself an appointment at six, rather surprised that they would still do color appointments that late in the day. Well, it turns out: They don’t. It’s just the cheap piece software that doesn’t care in the least what service you choose, it just approves your appointment to lure you into the salon so you get at least the cut right away. Which I did. A very friendly lady about ten years my senior cut my hair and told me how I should better come back for my color appointment after all the kids are back to school. Apparently their salon was full of school kids all week, getting their haircuts cleaned up in time to go back to school so they would actually see the blackboard (or screen?) from under their manes. Ah well, in that case my purple hair dream will have to wait a little longer, it seems 🙂 It’s just as well because my hair is nowhere near as long as the hair in the picture. I guess I will get the color with my next haircut… purple as a herald for fall – how perfect! 😉

Because I was denied my hair dye appointment I found myself with ample time to consider my next steps for the evening. And with my better half’s diet for the day so far having consisted of little more than water and a soft drink and mine of two giant cups of water and yogurt we decided to go and have dinner. At our favorite buffet place. Where they always serve us the funny little fortune cookies to go with the bill. And indeed! Once again they spoke the truth.

This one for my dear Sir – after adding a new member to our little family:

Welcome to our Family!

And that one for my own self – after deciding that this weekend for sure my family members will be strong enough to abandon the summer of the decade in Switzerland for a little while in order to talk to me for a moment. All I ever got to read over the last couple of weeks was “We’re at the lake!” or “We’re hiking in the mountains!” The most painful ones though declared that the writer would soon melt away as the thermometer was hitting over 90 degrees for the third day in a row… Really??!? You write that to someone living in Texas??!? The problem for me with a wonderful summer in Switzerland is not so much that I wouldn’t be happy for them – I know people back home have to savor every single minute of sunny skies and warm temperatures as the weather might change any day. Even if the forecast doesn’t say so. You just never know. So my parents, brother and family and friends have been out and about every weekend, reveling in the uplifting spirit of a mostly dry and warm season. And I don’t judge them. I used to do the exact same thing when I was still living in Switzerland. It’s just hard for me to in turn sit at home all day long only to wait for them to finally call me when they get back from their excursions late in the evening – which makes it mid- to late-afternoon for me. So by the time they would usually get back home and be ready to call me I was out and about and enjoying the perpetual friendly weather here in Texas. Even though the temperatures have been soaring over the 100’s for quite a while now I’m still not tired of the Texas summer. Yes, slightly cooler would certainly be nice too. And a drop of rain here and there would make the greenery look a teensy bit better. But all in all it’s nice to know exactly what to wear for the day. For the whole day, that is. And to know that there’s no need for my hair to hurry to grow back down in order to cover my ears for winter. It will still be a good while until the temperatures suddenly drop and make my nose freeze. But that’s another funny story. That will happen another week.

Ever since my grandma was diagnosed with and died of Alzheimer’s the expression “medical family history” took on a whole new proportion. All of a sudden there was this disease that is potentially passed down to offspring by means of genes. Crossword puzzles became the new standard pastime. (Für Deutsch hier klicken)

It’s not so much the dying that concerns me but the behavior during the initial time after onset of the disease and especially what it means for people around the person developing Alzheimer’s. While I was convinced the disease was mostly passed on through the genes it now turns out that – at least in the U.S. – less than 10% of Alzheimer’s patients suffer from the so called “Familial Alzheimer’s Disease” (FAD). The majority of Alzheimer’s cases are so called “late-onset”, meaning they usually develop after an age of 65. If I remember correctly though, my grandma was considerably younger than that when the first signs showed but of course my memory might betray me (I have a family history of Alzheimer’s after all…). It just seems so long ago and I didn’t see her very often once the disease started to take its toll. I guess my mum wanted to keep my brother and me out of harm’s way, especially at the beginning, as it is well known for patients to turn violent.

Understandably, my mum started to dig deep into all and every information about the disease and its course. One finding was that studies have long shown that activating your brain as much as possible helps to keep the dreaded disease in check for longer. So my mum started solving crossword puzzles on a regular basis. Every so often she would tell us about the latest developments in clinical research on Alzheimer’s and I remember that fateful day when she told me that apparently Alzheimer’s has the habit of skipping one generation. She accompanied that remark by subtly glancing over at the latest crossword puzzles.

Now as much as I love solving crossword and logic puzzles, I was still pretty thrilled to hear that there might be an alternative. I was listening to the radio’s morning program last week when I heard the story about how brains sweep themselves clean of toxins during sleep.

Baboons – one of the species with “dishwasher brains”.

Apparently, during sleep the brain gets swept with cerebrospinal fluid which – almost like a dishwasher – helps to wash away harmful waste proteins that build up between brain cells during waking hours. So far researchers have only witnessed this phenomenon in mice, rats and baboons and not yet in humans. But even so it offers a new view on the human brain disease because one of the waste products removed from the brain during sleep is beta amyloid, the substance that is associated with the disease.

These findings appear to offer the best explanation of why animals and people need sleep, apart from processing the day’s experiences and impressions. As the radio story informed me Alzheimer’s is often associated with sleep disorders which could easily be explained by these new results.

Literally sleeping like a baby.

Well, what does that tell me? Apart from staying engaged and challenging my brain on a daily basis, I now have another resort to turn to – sleep. And as I may say, that’s one thing I’m really good at. I can sleep. I can sleep like a log. Like a baby. With vivid dreams or simply long stretches of darkness that let me wake up well-rested. It’s easy for me to fall asleep. Even when watching a movie. If I decide I’m tired I fall asleep. So from now on I will always know that a good night’s sleep might keep me sane for just a little longer.

Not too long ago I received a somewhat curious text message from my mum. This in itself is nothing unusual for she’s sending me slightly cryptic texts quite frequently – the way it happens when one types rapidly on an iPhone, I fuess yiu lnow whsr Imm tLking abour I guess you know what I’m talking about. And that doesn’t even include auto text correction which would most certainly not understand a single word of our Swiss-German gibberish. (Für Deutsch hier klicken)

From one of these typed conversations followed that my mum – Heidi – and her friend – Ida – want to take a trip to the Rütli meadow to visit Heidi and Ida. What now? First of all, let me explain the Rütli meadow to you: Rütli is synonymous with the Swiss Confederates’ independence for according to Schiller’s drama “William Tell” it is on the Rütli meadow where the oath of the Swiss Confederation was sworn. Thus on the Rütli was founded on August 1st, 1291 what is 4th of July to the Americans… only that the latter occurred a mere 500 years later in 1776 as I would like to add.

But back to the double Heidi and Ida pair: The second pair that is to be visited comprises of two – cows. And not just any cows at that but ones that love to listen to ländler (barn-dance music). Well, simply genuine Swiss cows. I’m already looking forward to the stories that I get to hear and read after the visit. Who knows, maybe they will inspire me to another blog post.

Mongolian Gerbils – sweeeet!

Apropos blog post: I’ve finally managed to translate the award post into German. For all German speakers out there who are interested in reading the translation, just click here.

“Get up!” “YOU get up!”

Finally, I can report that I’ve taken a first step towards “cat recovery”, if you know what I mean. One day last week after work I went to the local pet shop and had a look at fish and fowl, so to say. I simply wanted to get a fix for my pet deficit and visually check out some fur and plumage goodness. I was mightily amused by the merry Gerbils and rats and mostly lazy bunnies, ferrets and guinea pigs. The fish, though, had the usual effect on me – I find them rather soothing (aka “slumberous”). But then again I was pleasantly surprised by the budgerigars. My uncle had budgies for years and back then I found the chirping rather annoying. But over the years I’ve come to like birds chirping and I love to imitate various bird sounds. And thus I thought a budgie would perhaps not be the worst of pets. We could parrot each other for the little guys are said to be quite docile interlocutors. One of my uncle’s birds managed to say “Hopp Lozaern” (a chant to spur on the local soccer team) quite presentably and also a few other things such as “Hansi”, i.e. his own name. Apparently if you teach them the command “get on” when you want them to step on your finger they start to use this statement at every opportunity: For example when they climb up their tiny ladders and such. Funny, right? 🙂

The pet shop has almost always some cats in a closed and sheltered glass room which ensures they’re not stressed out by noise and activity. A couple of hours every day visitors or potential adopting parents are allowed into the room to play with the kitties in order to get to know the favored cat a little better. It seems noteworthy that all the cats come from the local shelter and can be adopted, they’re not from some puppy mill. That’s mighty important since Austin is the largest “no-kill” city in America, i.e. no more than 10 % of the brought in animals have been euthanized since February 2011. This in turn requires that 90 % of the animals find a new home!

I didn’t play with the cats but only observed them for a while. They seemed so small, even though according to a staff member they were all fully grown cats. I really seems as if Swiss cats are slightly larger than their American equivalents. My visit to the pet store was somewhat ambivalent as I enjoyed watching the playing feline friends but I also felt the still lasting grief over the loss of my two friends. Only one thing seems clear to me – after having had cats the thought of having a caged pet is quite difficult. Well, the future will show what my next pet will be. There’s no doubt about one thing, though: Me without pets, that’s like… strawberries without whipped cream? Mashed potatoes with no sauce? Ernie without Bert? It works, but it’s hard to imagine.